Unfortunate Understanding
by essentialcatalyst
Summary: Hermione Granger sees Snape staring at her from the shadows and understands why he did what he did. These are her thoughts.


Disclaimer: I own nothing.

HBP spoilers…

"There are no saints, only unrecognized villains." Unknown.

Hermione Granger understands why he did it, she really does, and when she thinks about it too much it rather scares her. She still does though; think about it that is. In fact, she's thinking about it right now, in the comfort and safety of a slightly lumpy bed with covers that smell of cinnamon and ginger pulled up to her chin. She turns on her side and watches the shadows play across the adjacent wall and thinks of him. She can't seem to get him out of her mind. She understands the torment he went through in school because he was different and smarter the others frequently picked on him.

This understanding is what's keeping her awake at night. She sees why he chose the path he did and why he was so patient when it came to getting his revenge on those who betrayed him. Sometimes, she marvels at his determination, but she understands the need for it. He needed to lure the Headmaster into a false since of security just as the Headmaster had done with him, and then strike suddenly and with all his power. This makes her pull the covers tighter around her slender frame; unfortunately, it doesn't lessen the chill she feels. This chill has been with her ever since she learned of his deceit, of his true allegiance. She doesn't understand how she as well as many others missed the signs of foreboding or why the Headmaster trusted someone who had designed such horrid spells in his days at Hogwarts. Weren't they signs of future evil?

She recently borrowed Harry's potions book in order to give it a thorough read through, and some of the spells he invented were beyond her imagination. Through the book, in all the scribbles and scratched out words, she could almost feel his hatred for the world seeping through the pages. He was brilliant, punished, and taunted at Hogwarts; however, a tiny voice whose body is hidden in the shadows on the wall screams that he was salvageable then. And perhaps he had still been savable throughout his career as a Potions teacher, but too many stares and accusations had turned him untouchable. Somehow, she doubts this because the man she knows has never seemed the type one would be able to be save.

She imagines, with the help of Harry's description of the events in his pensive, that he had a tortured childhood. One filled with yelling and fighting; sunglasses, and too many falls down the stairs. She briefly wonders if those excuses are made in wizarding families or if they are only used by muggles. Whatever the reality, she always pictures his father using them regarding his son's bruises and black eyes. She can't relate to the abuse, and for that, she is thankful. However, she had a very vivid imagination, and on nights like this, when she sees stairs that don't exist in the shadows playing across the walls and hears the screams of people she's never met in the deafening silence of the Borrow she understands enough.

The invitation to attend Hogwarts must have been a dream-come-true for him, finally a way for him to escape the insanity of his home life. She envisions the Headmaster's arrival at his house to give him the good news. For one precious moment, his face lights up and there is hope in his dark eyes. He watches the Headmaster in awe and admiration and for once he believes that maybe, just maybe, someone might actually care. Of course, this is all theoretical, but it provides understanding, so she plays with the idea many times over.

Maybe things were all right at first, she ventures; maybe he wasn't always an outcast. However, she knows this is probably a falsity, because he doesn't strike her as a person who would ever fit in, no matter the crowd, he thought too much and the need to prove his worth to others was too great. The drive he felt to prove himself was probably the only thing in his mind on the day of the Sorting, and of course, Slytherin was the perfect house for him due to his desire of greatness. She doesn't know if his house was treated any differently back then, but she suspects they weren't, so she sees the other students watching him with caution because Slytherins can't be trusted.

She wonders who made the first strike sometimes, if it were Sirius or James because she doubts it was he, he was likely too busy reading a book or creating new spells to start anything. At least that's what she likes to tell herself. Hermione doesn't know why she still defends him, but the question never stops her. She knows that even if it is only in her mind, she will always defend him, because she finds it hard to believe in 'lost causes.' Anyway, he spends his time in the library most of the time; he'll occasionally converse with other Slytherins but keeps the contact minimal because he doesn't need them just yet.

Even without the knowledge of which person incanted the first curse, she sees how things between he and James's gang could have erupted into something terrible. She wonders if he ever went to a teacher for help, and it strikes her that it would have been his first response, but they were golden and he green. He would have learned fast that the only one he could count on was himself. So there he was, a teenager already untrusting of authorities and already flirting with a dangerous path. There was quiet talk amongst his house about a new wizard rising, a wizard who accepted their kind. He could block out the whispers in the earlier stages; he didn't truly hate the others yet.

It must have enraged him to have his own spell thrown back at him, and when a muggle born witch defended him, it must have nearly killed him. Therefore, he partnered up with Malfoy Senior and his gang for a bit of protection and because of a common hatred of those inferior to themselves. Somehow, she doubts he really cared about them though. He was merely using them, but he was already wandering down the trail of darkness their torches were lighting.

In the shadows on the walls, she sees him creeping down to the Whooping Willow during his sixth year, and can feel his heart beat accelerating and sweat dripping from his brow. The anticipation of finding out James's gangs secret almost over whelming him. And she feels his fear when he hears the howls of an unthinkable creature, only tens of meters away. In spite of this fear, he feels darkness and anger surface when a hand pulls him back to safety. When he finds out whom that hand belongs to, he sees red, because he would have rather died then to be saved by James Potter. After telling the Headmaster of the incident a coldness sweeps over him, like he's being drenched with a bucket of ice water, when the only one he has ever had faith in sentences him to silence and those who tried to kill him to a detention for the ordeal. "Is detention," he hisses questioningly to the Headmaster with the portraits of old Headmasters watching him carefully, "the price my life is worth to you?" He then stalks off and is engulfed by darkness. She suspects he trusted the Headmaster more then he trusted anyone else and when the Headmaster chose James and Sirius over him, he died. Not literally, of course, but everything important and salvageable was crushed. She sees him joining the Dark Lord that night and the Headmaster's obituary is written. He draws it up, the obituary, and carries it with him everywhere he goes.

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she thinks of the other parties involved. Sirius should have been expelled; this is something she never doubts. Lupin shouldn't have been allowed at the school in the first place, and James, well she's never entirely sure what should have happened to him. She supposes nothing, but somehow, that doesn't seem right because he was so obviously involved in the teasing, which started the whole predicament. So she leaves James out of her thoughts most of the time but sometimes she can't shake the feeling that in the end it was almost his own fault for what happened to him. You can only provoke someone so much before they break, and when that someone happens to have fallen into in with the darkest wizard of present times, then what else could you expect. He didn't kill James and Lily though, that she reminds her self of often: Voldemort did. She tries to dismiss the part he played in it, but knows even she can't logically exclude him from the mess, so she stops thinking about it.

Her head has started to hurt and she doesn't want to think about his betrayal anymore tonight. She mutters a quick spell to snuff out the small candle that has been causing the troubling shadows in the room, which she is sharing with Ginny, through out the night and allows her eyes to adjust to the new darkness. She sees him in the corner and her breath catches. Ever since his betrayal, she has seen him everywhere there is darkness. She suspects he saw the Headmaster in everything light and that's what kept him driven all those years. She closes her eyes tightly and tries to think about Bill and Fleur's wedding tomorrow but the look in his eyes when he left his office mere weeks ago haunts her. It haunts her because she had seen joy in the eyes she had grown so accustomed to seeing hatred in. She wonders if it's everything he hoped it would be and if by finally getting his revenge he managed to extinguish the Headmaster's twinkling eyes in every light; she hopes he did.

Yes, Hermione Granger understands why Severus Snape did what he did because she'll do the same to him when she gets the chance. Maybe then, he'll stop staring at her from the shadows.

Authors Note: This is a revised edition of a story I previously poster on here, hopefully it's better then the previous story. While I doubt Rowling will actually make Snape be truly evil (I'm sure there's a wonderful explanation for why he killed the Headmaster just waiting to be read in book 7) I would really like to believe he is. I prefer an evil Snape but hey, it's not my book. Anyway, please leave a review if you have time, I could use some opinions on the story and my writing in general. Thanks for reading.


End file.
